


An Alternate Scenario

by LonelyThursday



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pulitzer offers Jack a different deal, The Refuge, crutchie doesn't go to the refuge, jack is trying his BEST, pulitzer is a dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-14 02:57:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21008594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyThursday/pseuds/LonelyThursday
Summary: Pulitzer offers Jack a different deal. With three of his kids' lives on the line, he can't really say 'no', can he?





	1. The Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this fic starts when Jack goes to Pulitzer's office to invite him to the rally. The sequence of events goes a little differently, but it's pretty easy to figure out  
Also, just to reiterate, CRUTCHIE IS NOT IN THE REFUGE... other people are though :/

“Allow me to offer an alternate scenario: you will attend this rally and speak  _ against  _ this hopeless strike,” Pulitzer commands matter-of-factly, an evil smirk on his face. 

Jack snorts. “Sure, funny. Nah, though, I don’t think so.”

“It wasn’t a question,  _ boy.” _ Pulitzer’s smirk grows and Jack starts to feel a little uneasy.  _ Pulitzer knows something… but what? _ “Mr. Snyder?”

Jack jumps to his feet, but the Delanceys are fast to catch him before he can run out the door.  _ No, not Snyder! Not here! _ Jack struggles against the Delanceys with an almost blind panic, he has just enough wits about him to to understand Pulitzer’s next words. 

“He’s not here for  _ you, _ boy. He’s just bringing in your payment.”

“Payment?” Jack asks warily. What payment could Snyder possibly have that could convince Jack to turn on the strike. On his kids. 

“Hello,  _ Jack!”  _ Snyder enters Pulitzer’s Office through a different door than Jack had earlier. If the sight of the Spider isn’t enough to make Jack’s blood run cold, then what follows him is. 

Two of the Refuge’s most sadistic guards enter behind Snyder. One of the guards is leading a beaten, but walking, Elmer, who’s carrying Nickels in his arms. The other guard is dragging someone across the floor behind him, the unconscious person is too dirty for Jack to really tell who it is, but he’d place all his savings on it being Albert. 

This is what Pulitzer thinks will make Jack betray his friends… and he might be right. 

The guard dragging Albert drops him as the precession comes to a halt. Albert goes down like a sack of potatoes, without even a grunt of pain. 

Jack takes a moment to fully take in his kids. Elmer has bruises all over his arms, and a particularly nasty one on the left side of his face, and his shirt has more holes in it than it had when Jack had last seen him, but his clothes and body are  _ relatively _ clear of blood, and he’s managing to walk fine on his own. Nickels is pale, paler than she usually is, but her face is strangely flushed… she’s sick, probably the fever, if she stays in the Refuge much longer then she won’t stand a chance. Albert, in contrast to Elmer, is  _ covered _ in dirt and blood, so much so that the only reason Jack knows it’s Albert is because Albert is his only other kid currently  _ in _ the Refuge. 

“Jack!” Elmer cries. It’s clear that Elmer is just as surprised to see Jack as Jack is to see Elmer. 

Snyder sweeps his cane behind him, blindly clipping Elmer in the arm, punishment for speaking out of turn. Elmer bites his lip to keep from crying out in pain and tightens his hold on Nickels. While his mouth quits moving, his eyes continue to plead with Jack, and Jack will do everything in his power to get these three out of the Refuge… and Pulitzer knows it. 

“You see, Mr. Kelly,” Pulitzer continues is monologue as if nothing had happened. “If you speak against the strike, then your friends here will have their criminal records expunged, as well as your own, and I’ll even line your pockets with enough money to take…” Pulitzer looks at Nickels as if trying to remember her name. “Samantha here to a doctor, get her fever looked at. If you refuse, however…” Pulitzer’s pause is so dramatic that Jack  _ almost  _ rolls his eyes, but there’s too much at stake here. “I will have the boys’ crimes be changed from loitering… to  _ sodomy, _ and I doubt Samantha would survive for long without a doctor.”

Elmer lets out a squeak at the word ‘sodomy’, and Jack similarly feels his stomach drop. The sentence for loitering is only a few months, but  _ sodomy, _ that ends with death at best, institutionalization at worst. 

“You can’t-“ Jack begins to object

“I assure you that I  _ can.” _ Pulitzer cuts him off. “The choice, however, is yours, boy. Your pitiful strike, or your friends’ lives.”

“There ain’t a person in this room that don’t know that you  _ stink!” _ Jack seethes. 

“And if they know me,” Pulitzer says impassively. “They know I don’t  _ care. _ Gentlemen,” Pulitzer turns his attention towards the Delancey brothers. “Escort our guest to the cellar, where he may reflect upon his choices.”

Morris and Oscar pull Jack’s arms roughly as they half lead, half drag him to the basement. When they reach the door to the cellar, the brothers wordless shove Jack down the stairs, unprepared for the suddenness of his release, Jack falls down the stairs and onto the cold concrete floor of the World basement. Jack recovers just in time for something else to fall onto him, knocking him back into the floor. There’s a sharp cry of pain from the top of the stairs, before the basement door is shut, plunging the dank room into darkness. 

“Jack?” Elmer whispers from somewhere nearby, causing Jack to realize that he hadn’t been locked in the cellar alone. 

“Elmer?” Jack tries to shift out from under whatever had fallen on him. As the weight falls off, he realizes that it was Albert, who had been thrown down the stairs after Jack. 

“Jack!” Jack hears footsteps coming towards him, followed by the light brushing of searching fingertips over his chest. Jack grabs onto Elmer’s wrist and uses it to pull the younger boy into a hug. Elmer starts crying the moment his head lands on Jack’s shoulder. Jack lightly wraps one arm around Elmer’s shoulders, and one around Nickels, still perched in Elmer’s arms. 

“It’s okay, El. Everythin’s gonna be fine,” Jack soothes, rubbing his hand up and down Elmer’s back like a mother would do to comfort her child. “I’se gonna getcha outta this, I promise.”

“Don’t do it, Jack!” Elmer sobs, shaking hard. “Whatever Pulitzer wants ya ta do, we ain’t worth it.”

“I ain’t leavin’ ya ta  _ die,  _ Elmer!”

“We ain’t worth it,” Elmer sobs again. Jack gently pulls Nickels out of Elmer’s hold, he can  _ feel _ the heat radiating off of her.  _ That can’t be good. _

“Elmer, Nickels needs a doctor,” Jack reasons as he guilds Elmer onto the ground so that they’re all sitting. Jack can feel Albert with his leg, he’s going to need to check him out sooner than later, the lack of consciousness has started to become concerning. Jack arranges Nickels in his lap so that her legs extend out over his own, and her head rests on his shoulder. Elmer leans onto his other shoulder, tears still seeping through Jack’s shirt. “This is the only way she’s going to get one.”

“I don’t like it, Jack,” Elmer mumbles, his tears finally drying up. 

“I know ya don’t, but I’m still gonna do it. Here,” Jack shifts Nickels onto Elmer’s lap, freeing himself up to go check on Albert. “Take Nicks so’s I can check Al fer any bleedin’.”

Nickels whimpers softly, but her eyes stay closed as she curls into Elmer as much as possible. 

Jack rolls Albert onto his back as gently as he can and starts searching for any cuts. It’s hard in the dim light of the basement, but eventually Jack concludes that Albert doesn’t have any pressing injuries. 

“He’s in the basement a lot,” Elmer whispers as Jack finishes his examination. “Fer mouthin’ off.”

“Sounds like Al.” Jack’s going for lighthearted, but judging by the look on Elmer’s face, he’s missed the mark. “Hey, he’ll be fine.”

“I still don’t think you should do what Pulitzer wants.” Jack pulls Albert with him as he returns to his spot next to Elmer. 

“Do ya understand what Pulitzer asked me ta do?” Jack asks as he arranges Albert so his head is pillowed on Jack’s lap. Elmer shakes his head no. “Then don’t worry ‘bout it, ya lives is more important.”

“Alright,” Elmer still looks doubtful, but he thankfully lets it go. 

Jack feels bad lying to him. If Elmer knew about the strike then he would have wanted Jack to turn down Pulitzer’s deal, but as the leader of the Manhattan newsies, it’s Jack’s job to take care of his kids. And that means keeping them alive at all costs… 

They spend the rest of their time in the cellar huddled together. Every now and then Nickels will let out a whimper, but she’s quick to settle down again with some reassurances that Jack and Elmer are still there. 

Pulitzer sends in one of his goons, eventually, to lead Jack to the rally. He’ll also stick around to make sure Jack carries through with his side of the bargain. 

And Jack will. To get Nickels to a doctor, and to get Albert and Elmer back home. 

He’s not sure any of his friends will ever forgive him. He’s not sure Elmer will forgive him, once he realizes what Jack really did, but at least he’ll be alive. 

The rally is already in full swing by the time Jack gets there. A pit forms in his stomach at the sight of Spot Conlon - Brooklyn’s joined their strike… just in time for Jack to put an end to it. This will be the end of Jack Kelly. As soon as he turns on the strike, Spot will kill him. Even if he doesn’t, Jack will have effectively alienated all of his friends… his family. 

Jack takes a moment to watch Davey address the newsies, so much more confident than he had been just a few days ago. Maybe the strike can continue without him. Between Davey, Katherine, and Spot… they don’t really  _ need _ Jack, do they?

“-from now on they  _ will _ treat us as equals!” Jack takes that as his cue, and with one final breath, he steps onto the stage. 

“Ya wanna be talked to like an adult? Start actin’ like one,” Jack can feel all eyes turn towards him, and Davey lets out a quiet “Jack” with so much relief on his face… but Jack can’t back down now. “Don’t just run ya mouth, make some sense.”

“And here’s Jack!” Davey declares loudly. The Manhattan newsies start cheering his name, followed soon after by the other boroughs and neighborhoods. Soon every kid in the building (except Spot Conlon) is chanting Jack’s name. 

The pit in Jack’s stomach deepens. All these kids, who are cheering for him like he’s their hero, will hate him in just a few minutes. Looking around the theater, Jack thinks that the only person who might not hate him soon is Racer. His brother in every way that matters, his second-in-command, his partner in crime… he might be relieved enough at seeing Albert that he won’t hate Jack for what he’s about to do… maybe. 

Jack briefly meets Crutchie’s eyes, he’s chanting along with everyone else. There’s warmth in those eyes, there always is. But even Crutchie, whose heart is so full of love that he gives Morris and Oscar paper cranes made out of unsold newspapers every Christmas, will hate him later. Jack doesn’t think he could stand to watch the affection turn to disgust, so he tears his eyes away quickly.

He can’t even bring himself to look at Davey. 

“Alright!” He yells, effectively silencing the crowd. “Pulitzer…” Jack motions to his cartoon that’s being used as a backdrop for the rally. “Raised the price a papes wit’out so much as a word ta us, and that was a lousy thing ta do.” There’s a murmur of agreement from the crowd. “So’s we got mad, and we showed ‘em we ain’t gonna be pushed around. So we go on strike. And what happens? Well, Pulitzer lowers the price a papes, so’s we’ll go back ta work!” 

The crowd cheers, and Jack wishes his speech could end there. That he could leave in the good graces of the newsies. But he can’t. 

“And then a few weeks after that, he hikes up his prices again, and don’t think he won’t. So what do we do then?” Everyone’s stopped cheering by now, confused on where he’s going with his. Jack pointedly refuses to look at Davey, or Crutchie, or any of his kids, he knows he wouldn’t like what he’d see if he did. “And what do we do when he raises his prices  _ again _ after that? Fellas, we gotta be realistic here! If we don’t work, we don’t get  _ paid.” _

“Jack,” Davey says softly, coming up behind him. Jack finally turns to face him, ready to deal the final blow. 

“How many days can you go wit’out makin’ money? Huh?” Jack looks right into Davey’s eyes. He can see the disappointment there, but he pushes on, for Nickels, for Elmer, for Albert. “Believe me, however long,  _ Pulitzer _ can go longer.”

The newsies are in an uproar again, but this time, they’re against him. 

“But I have spoken wit’ Mr. Pulitzer.” Jack attempts to yell over the crowd. “And he…” Jack chokes over his words. “He has given me his  _ word. _ If we disband the union-”

“Disband the union!?” Someone, he thinks it’s Finch, yells. It’s the only thing Jack can clearly make out in the cacophony of disagreement that meets his statement. 

“-He will not raise prices again for two years! He will even put that in writin’! Now I say we take the deal.” No one’s listening anymore, but Jack can’t bring himself to stop. “We go back ta work knowin’ our price is secure. All ya gotta do is vote ‘no’. Vote ‘no’!”

A hand grabs Jack and turns him roughly to the right, then a fist connects hard with the side of his face. Jack stumbles back a few steps and finds one  _ seething _ Brooklyn leader in front of him, fist pulled back, ready to throw another punch. 

Instead of punching him, Spot just shoves Jack backwards as hard as he can. Jack stumbles back into someone else, who also shoves him even farther back until Jack finds himself at the end of the stage, face to face with Pulitzer’s goon. 

The goon hands Jack a wad of cash, which Jack snags quickly, before shoving the goon away from him. Jack hopes that none of the newsies has witnessed the transaction, but his hopes are dashed as someone yells “he’s a sellout!”

Someone comes up behind him. Jack brings his hand up, ready to defend himself against whomever had come to fight him, but it’s only Les. Les runs away when Jack turns towards him, thinking that Jack was going to hit him, and Jack’s heart breaks a little more. He’d  _ never  _ hit Les. 

Apparently Les isn’t the only one who thought that Jack was going to hit him. The Manhattan newsies get up-in-arms over it and Jack does the only thing he can think of. 

He runs. 

As he runs, he can only hear one thing, again, and again, and  _ again _ in his head. 

“You’re a traitor, Jack!”

_ You’re a traitor _

_ A traitor _

_ Traitor _

Jack runs as fast as he can. Out of the theater. Over the streets. He lets his feet carry him until they bring him to a stop in front of a familiar building. The _ World _ building. 

Morris and Oscar are waiting for him just outside the door, and Jack can see Pulitzer and some of his goons watching from the balcony of Pulitzer’s office. Gone are Snyder and his prison guards, instead Morris and Oscar are supporting Albert between them, and Elmer (still carrying Nickles) stands to their right. 

“It’s been a pleasure doin’ business wit’cha,” Oscar sneers as he and Morris shove Albert at Jack. Jack glares at them as he catches Albert around the waist, supporting all of his weight. 

“See ya around, Kelly. That is, if ya pals don’t kill ya first!” Morris calls. He and Oscar laugh as they enter the  _ World _ building, shutting the door loudly behind them. 

“What did he mean?” Elmer demands as soon as they’re alone. “Who’s gonna kill ya?”

“Spot,” Jack answers regretfully as he readjusts Albert’s weight, dragging one arm over his shoulder in order to carry him better. “Maybe Davey… probably some others. C’mon, we gotta get Nicks ta a doctor. Maybe see if he can look at Al, too.”

“Jack-“

“I’ll explain later, Elm. Right now, we gotta find a doctor, and I think I know just the one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realize that the last line makes it sound like the doctor is an actual someone, it's just an OC of no importance


	2. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newsies are reeling after Jack's betrayal, but that's not stopping them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't say it in the last chapter, but Nickels is like 7  
she's really young
> 
> At this point, I'm pretty sure that Davey and Crutchie (and probably Katherine) are in love with Jack, but I don't know who Jack's in love with  
he's just trying to keep people alive, no time to be in love

Spot growls as he watches Jack run from the rally. The coward. The _traitor. _Spot has half a mind to gather his boys and head back to Brooklyn, screw Jack Kelly, screw Manhattan, screw this stupid _strike!_

But then he sees the look of betrayal in Race’s eyes. The hurt in Crutchie’s. The anger in Davey’s. 

Jack may have betrayed Spot, but he’d betrayed his own kids too. So screw Jack Kelly, Spot’s going to win this. For Race, for Brooklyn, for Elmer.

For himself. 

“Spot?” Hotshot asks, watching the chaos unfold around them. Spot ignores him in favor of addressing the crowd. 

“NEWSIES!” He bellows at the top of his lungs. The reaction is almost instantaneous as nearly everyone quiets down. _“This,”_ Spot gestures to the direction that Jack had run off in. “Ain’t the end of our strike. We don’t need Kelly ta lead us ta victory! We’re gonna _win_ and we’re gonna do it wit’out him! NEWSIES UNITED!”

The crowd cheers. Spot grins to himself, he’s _Spot Conlon, _when he says “jump”, kids jump first and ask questions later. 

“Spot,” Race catches up to him as he and his boys start making their way back to Brooklyn. “Thank you. For stayin’ wit’ the strike after Jack… just, thank you.”

“You believe in the strike?” Spot asks instead of acknowledging Race’s gratitude. 

“I do, Spotty. I really do.”

“Then you can count on Brooklyn.” Spot grins, clapping Race on the arm. Some of the tension leaks out of Race, and a tired smile graces his face. “Ya heard from El, or Al recently?”

The smile drops from Race’s face immediately, and he shakes his head mutely. Spot frowns. 

“It’s too dangerous ta visit right now,” Race explains. “Jack wouldn’t let us send anyone, and I don’t think we should either.”

“I understand.” Spot says gently. As mad as Spot is at Jack right now, it’s smart to keep his kids as far away from the prison as possible. Especially with the strike going on. As much as Spot wishes he had word on how Elmer is doing, he wouldn’t want to risk putting another kid in there to get it. 

“Thanks Spotty.”

“I’ll see ya ‘round, Racer.” Spot doesn’t wait for a reply, he just turns on his heels and heads after his boys (who have gone ahead without him).

Screw Jack Kelly, they’ll win the strike without him. 

Davey groans as he takes a seat on the fire escape. He can’t slow his mind down enough to actually sleep, and he doesn’t want to keep Les awake with his tossing and turning. 

So the fire escape it is. 

The events of the night are still playing over and over in his mind like a like a broken record on a phonograph. 

Jack betrayed them. He sold them out to _Pulitzer _of all people. He’s the one that wanted to have a strike in the first place, he can’t just sell them out like that. 

But he did, and there’s no changing that. 

How could Jack do that to them, to Davey? Don’t his friends mean anything to him? Is he really so desperate to get to Santa Fe that he’d turn on his friends? His _family?_

Davey doesn’t know. He just doesn’t know, and it’s _beyond_ frustrating. 

Davey leans forward to rest his head against the railing. This night has been a disaster. It doesn’t matter _why_ Jack betrayed them, the simple fact remains: Jack was supposed to lead them to victory, and instead, he let them down. 

He sits there for what feels like hours, but, by the time the eastern sky begins to show the first signs of morning, resolve has hardened in Davey’s gut. They can still win the strike, with or without Jack. They _have_ to. 

Crutchie sighs as he turns in for bed. It’s been a day since the disastrous rally, and there’s been no sign of Jack since. Everyone’s mad at Jack, but Crutchie can’t bring himself to hate him. He’s known Jack for too long, he knows that there _must_ be a reason for Jack’s change of heart, if only Jack would come back and tell him what it is.

But as it is, Crutchie has no idea where Jack might be. He’d spent the whole day checking Jack’s favorite spots, he’d even gone back to Medda’s theater, but no matter where he looked, there was no sign of Jack. Davey told Crutchie to give up, he said it's obvious that Jack took Pulitzer’s money and hightailed it off the Santa Fe, but Jack had _promised,_ he’d promised to take Crutchie with him when he left, and Crutchie has to believe that he meant it. _He _had _to have meant it. _

That, and Jack hadn’t retrieved any of his stuff from the rooftop. All his drawing, his clothes, his savings. All present and accounted for.

Jack’s just… disappeared.

Crutchie rolls over onto his side, looking for a comfortable position. Maybe it’s stupid to keep sleeping on the rooftop when Jack is clearly gone, but Crutchie’s holding out hope that he’ll come back. He _has _to come back. 

Katherine huffs as she throws the front door to her parent’s mansion open. It’s been two days since the rally and enough is enough. There’s been no sign of Jack since he ran away, and she knows from Crutchie that he hadn’t taken any of his things with him. 

By now she’s spent enough time with the newsies to know that _anything_ that they can call their own is _deeply_ important to them. No matter how much money her father had offered Jack, there’s no way he would have just left almost all of his possessions behind. And she’s spent enough time around _Jack_ to know that he wouldn’t just leave his family behind either. 

Not like that. 

So the only conclusion she can draw is that her father did something. Something more than just bribe Jack, her father _must_ have made some sort of threat. Something that would keep him away from his home. From his family. But what?

That’s what she’s here to find out. 

Though the butler tries to stop her, she barges straight into her father’s study without knocking. Her father is at his desk, bent over some fancy first edition of some boring old book that no one really enjoys, but everyone reads just to say that they have. He doesn’t even have the courtesy to look shocked at the intrusion. He merely places a bookmark in his book and calmly gives her an expectant look. 

“Ah, good morning, darling,” he looks like he’s about to deal with an unruly toddler rather than his adult daughter, which only serves to make her blood boil all the hotter. “What can I do for you today? I hope it’s not more of this distasteful talk of _strikes_ and _street rats.”_

“It most certainly _is_ about the strike!” Katherine yells before forcibly composing herself. If she can’t deliver this in a calm voice, then her father will never take her seriously. “What did you threaten Jack with?”

“Kitty, darling, I have no idea what you’re going on about,” her father replies, but she knows him better than that. 

“You _do_ know I’m talking about, father. Jack would never have said what he said at the rally unless you had threatened him, so what was it? Prison? _Death?_ I can tell when you’re lying father, so don’t even try it. No one has seen Jack since the rally, and I _know_ that you’re to blame.”

“Kitty.” 

Her father finally puts his book down and stands from his desk. He rounds the desk to place a hand on her arm, which she forcibly shrugs off, glaring at him. She won’t be backing down. 

Her father sighs, but continues. “Katherine, I made no threats to Mr. Kelly. If he hasn’t been seen, then maybe he’s left town, he _did_ want to go out west, did he not?”

“I know that you’re lying.”

“Very well then, if you must know,” her father returns to his chair with a weary sigh. “I may have given Mr. Kelly a little more than monetary incentive to see things my way, but I have done nothing to prevent him from continuing on with his day-to-day life if he does not so desire. If no one has seen him, then that is entirely of his own choosing. I truly haven’t the slightest idea as to where he might be now.”

Katherine searches her father’s face for any sign of deceit, but much to her dismay, she finds none. Her father doesn’t know where Jack is now. Even so, she needs to make one thing abundantly clear. 

“If I find out that you’ve lied to me here today, I will _never_ forgive you, father.” She doesn’t wait for a reply as she storms out of her father’s office. 

He doesn’t know where Jack is. She’s no closer to finding him now than she had been when she’d woken up this morning. 

Katherine could just about scream in frustration. The only thing stopping her is her own dignity. She’s on a fairly busy street in a rather nice neighborhood in Brooklyn, no need to make a scene. Especially when it wouldn’t get her anything. 

She storms through Brooklyn on her way to Manhattan, hoping that she’ll run into Spot Conlon on the way, but not going out of her way to find him. She needs to talk to Davey about their next step. The strike needs to continue, Jack, or no Jack. But in the back of her mind, she _knows. _Something bad must have happened to keep Jack away from his kids, to make him turn on them. 

She runs into Spot Conlon in front of the Brooklyn Bridge. He must have been waiting for her, but she doesn’t know how he knew to be there. She ignores him as she makes her way across on foot, but she can tell that he’s following behind her, at a respectful - and discrete - distance of course. 

Katherine continues ignore Spot for the entire trip to the Manhattan lodging house, even though she knows that he’s just as much a leader in this strike as Davey is. She’s too lost in thought, thinking up a new plan for their next strike event. It _has_ to be foolproof. They have to win, and _soon. _So she has to formulate the perfect plan. She _has_ to. 

Race sighs, wishing he had a cigar right about now, but he’s already smoked all the ones he had. There’s no way he’d be able to afford any, and he’s been too busy to find someone to pinch them from. It’s been a stressful few days for him. First Jack disappears before the rally, then Jack shows up only to turn his back on the strike, _then_ Jack _goes missing_ for two days leaving Race to lead in his place. And _now_ Race is breaking into Pulitzer’s own building with Katherine (who is apparently Pulitzer’s _daughter, _but is on their side), Davey, and Spot, and then they’ll let the rest of the fellas in once they’re sure that the coast is clear. 

And perhaps the worst part of all is that Race still isn’t sure how to feel about Jack. Davey and Spot _hate_ Jack, and neither of them seem to care that he’s disappeared. Katherine and Crutchie, on the other hand, seem to think that if they find Jack then he’ll have a good explanation for why he turned his back on them, and they’re both worried about Jack’s whereabouts. Those are his two options, and he’s honestly not sure which one to think. Most of the fellas have decided; Finch thinks Jack’s a traitor, Jojo thinks Jack has an explanation, Mike thinks Jack took a bribe, Ike thinks Jack got threatened…

And Race is still unsure. 

He _is _sure about one thing though: if Katherine’s plan works, then there’s no way Pulitzer can ignore them. 

* * *

Doctor Franklin (one of Jack’s regular customers) let Jack and Elmer stay in his house for two days while he looked after Albert and Nickels. He had even gone through some of his sons’ old clothes to find something clean for Albert and Elmer to wear. The Franklins hadn’t had any daughters, but Mrs. Franklin has managed to produce an old dress that one of the neighbors’ daughters had outgrown for Nickels. Jack had tried to pay Dr. Franklin and his wife for the generosity, but they had only accepted enough to pay for Nickels’ medicine and a little bit that they had spent to buy a nice dinner for Jack, Elmer, and Albert (Nickels could only drink soup, and Elmer and Albert were so unused to having actual food that neither of them had eaten much).

Albert had woken up the morning after they’d gotten there. Weak and disoriented he’d accused Jack of being a hallucination and had tried to fight Dr. Franklin when he’s gotten too close (though having been in the Refuge for a few weeks had weakened him, and his fighting was more like weakly flailing his arms around until he passed out again). But when he awoken a second time later in the day, he’d been more coherent and understood when Elmer explained the situation to him. Which had prompted Jack to come clean about exactly what kind of deal he had cut with Pulitzer. 

It hadn’t gone well. 

Elmer had been furious that Jack would do that to the others just for the three of them, and that Jack would _lie_ to him about the severity of the deal at the time. Albert had been quiet about the whole thing until Elmer had stormed out of the room to go check on Nickels. When he had gone, Albert thanked Jack for getting them out. Looking past the bruises, Jack could see the dark bags under Albert’s eyes, the distance in his stare, and the gauntness of his cheeks. It’s hard being in the Refuge alone, it’s even harder being in the Refuge with someone you feel you have to protect. 

Jack had slowly placed a hand on Albert’s shoulder, and while the redhead had flinched initially, he’d been quick to lean into the touch. Affection was often hard to accept after leaving the Refuge, but it was also craved so much, and Jack knew this well. 

Elmer had returned an hour later, after Albert had fallen asleep again (this time on Jack’s lap). He’d apologized for yelling, and thanked Jack for saving his life, as well as Albert and Nickels’ lives, though he’d still made it abundantly clear that he disapproved of Jack betraying the others. That night was the night that the Franklins had fed them a fancy meal that only Jack could truly appreciate. 

After two days at the Franklins’, however, Jack was starting to feel like they’d overstayed their welcome, and with Albert being strong enough to walk again, he’d felt like it was time to leave. Dr. Franklin had disagreed, but eventually the two came to an agreement: Nickels would stay at the Franklins’ where the doc could look after her fever, and Jack would take his boys back to the lodging house. Dr. Franklin warned that Albert shouldn’t put too much stress on his leg, but Jack had assured him that Albert wouldn’t be going back to work for a few more days yet. On their way out the door, Jack had once again tried to pay the Franklins back for their kindness, but once again, the doctor and his wife had refused, saying that it had been their pleasure to have four such kind and respectful guests in their house. Jack had slipped a few dollars inside Mrs. Franklin’s coat pocket anyway. 

Now the three of them are on their way back to the lodging house in the dark, and Jack is getting more and more antsy with every step. He won’t be welcomed back at the lodge, he knows this, but part of him is still holding out hope that he’ll be forgiven. 

The closer they get to the lodge, the farther back Jack hangs from Albert and Elmer. Maybe it would be better for those two to return to the lodge and for Jack to make himself scarce. Running has always been his instinct, and it’s never let him down before… 

Any hopes of running are dashed when Albert’s leg gives out from under him, sending the ginger toppling to the ground with a sharp cry of pain. Elmer starts fussing over Albert, but Jack just grabs Albert’s arm and throws it over his shoulders, hauling Albert to his feet. 

“He needs to rest!” Elmer objects, but Jack just shakes his head. 

“We can’t jus’ stay in the middle a the street. Jus’ cuz Pulitzer erased our criminal records don’t mean that Snyder ain’t lookin’ ta arrest us again.”

“But-“

“He’s right, Elm,” Albert cuts in. “We gotta get back ta the lodge, I can rest there.”

“Fine,” Elmer sighs, taking Albert’s other arm. “But I don’t like it.”

The three of them continue on, albeit slower than before. 

The lodge is empty when they get there. 

That immediately puts Jack on edge. It’s just before midnight, by all accounts the lodge should be filled to the brim with sleeping kids… but it’s not. 

“Jack?” Elmer whispers, as if there actually are sleeping kids around, or maybe he just doesn’t want to disturb the silence. Jack isn’t sure. 

“I don’t know,” Jack replies just as quietly, answering the unspoken question. The whole lodge looks almost ominous with it being as dark and empty as it is right now. Jack doesn’t like it one bit. 

“What should we do?” Albert asks at full volume, not one to be scared of an empty room. 

Jack takes a moment to think, but there’s only one clear course of action. As much as Elmer and Albert would hate to admit it, they need rest (actual rest, somewhere where they _actually_ feel safe), and as much as _Jack_ hates to admit it, he needs rest too. 

“We’ll stay here tonight, if no one shows up by mornin’ we’ll go lookin’ fer them.” He decides. 

“Sleep in the empty lodge?” Elmer asks, his voice shaking. 

“Ya can sleep on the roof wit’ me, if ya want.” Jack offers. Elmer nods, not wanting to sleep in the seemingly abandoned bunk room. After weeks of sleeping in an overcrowded room, a nearly empty one would be downright spooky. Albert, however, shakes his head. 

“I’se gonna sleep down here,” he says. “I’ve missed my bed.”

“Alright,” Jack says before making his way to the window, Elmer following close behind. Elmer shoots Albert one last concerned look before following Jack up the fire escape, but Albert just gives him a reassuring smile. He’ll be fine in the empty bunk room by himself. 

As soon as Jack and Elmer are out of sight, Albert bypasses his own bed in favor of Race’s. Albert curls around Race’s pillow, breathing in his scent. The bed smells pretty strongly of him, so Albert imagines that he had slept in it the previous night. He doesn’t know where Race is now, but Albert’s sure he’s fine. 

_Unless he’s in the Refuge. What if the strike went wrong and everyone got arrested? That’s why no one’s here, because they’re all in that rotten place. You just got _out_ and now Race is in there. He’s probably looking for you. He’s probably-_

Albert sits up and sighs. He’s not going to be able to sleep tonight, not with images of his friends in the Refuge circling around in his mind. 

Albert grabs Race’s pillow and takes it with him as he goes to search under Specs’ bunk for a book. Between all the newsies, they don’t have very many books, so they’ve mostly consolidated their collection into a makeshift library that they keep under Specs’ bunk. Once he’s found a suitable book (which may or may not be Race’s favorite book), he heads out onto the fire escape where he can use the dim streetlights and the moonlight to actually see the words on the page. 

The streets are quiet from the fire escape, the only real noise he can hear is the quiet whispers of Jack and Elmer from the roof. They probably can’t sleep either, probably plagued by the same thoughts that plague Albert. He briefly considers joining them, but opts for being alone with a book and Race’s pillow instead. 

While the night is silent, that doesn’t mean it’s empty. Over the course of the night, Albert sees at least five shadowy figures running silently through the streets in front of the lodge. He can’t make out who they are, but they all travel alone and with purpose. Many of them seem to be carrying something in one hand, but a couple of them run past empty handed. They’re not bulls, that’s for sure, but other than that, Albert can’t really be sure _who_ they are. 

Between the mystery of the shadowy figure, and the relief of being outside, the thought of his friends being in the Refuge is driven from his mind, and Albert falls into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've rewritten the ending like three times guys, so at this point I'm not even sure how it ends (other than that the newsies will be happy)


	3. The Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they've won the strike and Jack's back! What could be better than that? (Gays being happy! That’s what)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh! I added relationships! They just kinda snuck up on me but they’re here now

“Each generation must, at the height of its power, step aside and invite the young to share the day. You have laid claim to our world, and I believe the future, in your hands, will be bright and prosperous.”

Davey is trying hard to remain calm… at least outwardly. On the inside, though, he’s freaking out. He’s standing next to _Governor Theodore Roosevelt!_ They’ve won the strike with Katherine’s plan and now Davey is standing next to _Theodore Roosevelt. Jack would love-_

Nope. Not going there. Not now. Nope.

Even with newsies scouring the city all night delivering the Banner to every kid they could find, there’d been no sign of Jack.

Of course there hasn’t. Jack’s gone. Of to Santa Fe, or somewhere better.

Davey shakes the thought off. Right now isn’t about Jack, it’s about them.

“These drawings, however, have brought another matter to bear.” Well that’s about Jack. Davey does feel a little bit guilty about Katherine taking Jack’s drawings without permission, but to be fair, he’s the one that left them behind. “Officers! If you please.”

Davey barely has a moment to panic about what Roosevelt could possibly need the police for, before two officers drag the man that had chased himself, Jack, and Les that first night after selling.

“Oh, it’s Snyder the Spider!” He hears Race yell gleefully.

“These drawings have made an eloquent argument for shutting down the Refuge. Know that Mr. Snyder and his associates will be fully investigated.” The governor makes a sweeping motion with his hand and the officers drag a struggling Snyder out of the square, followed by the sounds of hundreds of jeering newsies.

“An’ the kids in the Refuge?” Spot asks, loud enough for the governor to hear, but not loud enough for the newsies in the square.

“They’ve all been released.” Roosevelt says gently. Spot’s shoulders sag in relief, and the first genuine smile Davey’s ever seen from him graces his face. Davey wonders how many of Spot’s kids had just been released, how many of Jack’s…

“Now I believe the only matter of business left,” Roosevelt turns to face Pulitzer, eyebrow raised. “Is to discuss the whereabouts of the artist.”

“This _again?”_ Pulitzer demands. There’s something in his tone that doesn’t sit right with Davey, maybe Jack didn’t leave after all, maybe Pulitzer did something to him. “As I told my daughter just yesterday, I have no idea where Mr. Kelly went after our… agreement.”

By now, Spot’s looking suspicious too, and Katherine has the arms crossed over her chest, glaring daggers at her father. Roosevelt lets out a humorless snort at the obvious bullshit.

“Didn’t I hear something about the strike being settled?” Pulitzer asks, trying to change the subject, but they’re not letting him get away that easily.

“That depends,” Spot says, crossing his arms over his chest and leveling Pulitzer with the full strength of his glare. For someone who’s barely five feet tall, Spot Conlon has got to be the most intimidating person Davey’s ever met. “On what kinda ‘agreement’ you an’ Jackie Boy had.”

Pulitzer gives Roosevelt an appraising look, making Davey think that some part of his and Jack’s deal had been illegal.

“I told Mr. Kelly that if his… opinion on the strike were to… shift, then I would convince Mr. Snyder to release of few… deathly ill kids so that they might find professional assistance.” Pulitzer says slowly, measuring his words carefully. “It was not my fault that these kids were ill, nor was it my fault that Mr. Snyder did not take care of the delinquents in his… care.”

Something in Pulitzer’s story is a lie, or at the very least a stretched truth, but Davey isn’t sure whether it’s the sick kids, or that he wasn’t responsible for Snyder’s abuses. A glance at Spot reveals that the Brooklyn leader is having the same thoughts, but Katherine seems to have an idea.

“How many kids?” She asks, her skills as a journalist shining through.

“Three,” Pulitzer answers easily, directing all his attention towards his daughter. Davey can tell that they’re having some sort of battle of wits, but he can’t begin to fathom the unspoken parts of the battle. “Two boys, about their age,” Pulitzer gestures to Davey and Spot. “And a young girl, about seven I would say.”

“What were their names?” This question is Spot’s.

“I couldn’t even begin to remember.” Pulitzer answers flippantly. The lack of concern he shows for three kids that he claims were dying grinds Davey’s bones, and he wishes there were a way for Pulitzer to truly pay for the misery he’s caused.

“You let the kids go knowing they had no money for a doctor?” Katherine asks. A new commotion starts in the square below, but none of them pay it any mind. Except for governor Roosevelt, who’s decided that Katherine, Spot, and Davey have Pulitzer handled.

“I gave Mr. Kelly more than enough to cover their hospital bills… if he chose to spend it that way, it is.”

“What do you mean?” Davey demands.

“You can lead a horse to water,” Pulitzer says darkly. “But you can’t make it drink.”

Katherine and Davey, insulted that Pulitzer would ever even _suggest_ that Jack would take the money and run rather than take sick kids to a doctor, start objecting loudly, and Spot takes a menacing step towards Pulitzer. They’re interrupted, however, when the door the Pulitzer’s office opens with a loud bang.

“Mornin’ fellas, Katherine. Beautiful day, ain’t it?” Jack Kelly enters with his normal swagger. He’s followed by a shorter boy with dark curly hair, Davey would guess that he’s one of the ‘deathly ill’ kids, he’s got dark bags under his eyes and his eyes flit over the room nervously, but he doesn’t look sick.

_“Elmer,”_ Davey can barely make out the name Spot whispers it so quietly. The curly haired boy - Elmer - whips his head around until he his eyes land on Spot and he grins, though he doesn't leave Jack’s side.

“Mr. Kelly!” Pulitzer sounds shocked. “I wasn’t expecting you here.”

“Yeah well we was in the neighborhood,” Jack says with a cocky grin, but when his eyes meet Davey’s he looks almost nervous. “An’ we heard that the Spider got hauled off fer abusin’ kids, an’ I thought ya myself ‘I bet the gov’nor would love ta hear ‘bout our deal.’”

Pulitzer’s face nearly turns purple, and a vein on his head is concerningly prominent. “You can’t just-“

“Oh I assure ya, I _can.”_

“Well don’t leave us in suspense, son.” Roosevelt interjects. “What was the deal?”

Despite having mentioned that he knew that the governor was in the room, Jack still looks like a mix of star struck and nauseous when his eyes finally land on Roosevelt. Jack takes a moment to visibly compose himself, but Roosevelt only smiles encouragingly.

“He said he’d have us killed!” Elmer says before Jack can manage to get his words together. Elmer steps out from behind Jack and points an accusing finger at Pulitzer. “He said he’d change me an’ Al’s crime ta sodomy and he’d let Nickels die a the fever!”

All eyes turn to Pulitzer. Davey wishes he couldn’t believe what Elmer had said, but after the week he’s been having, it sounds about right.

Pulitzer laughs nervously. “Kids say the darndest things.”

Roosevelt shakes his head in disbelief. “Remember that state senate investigation I mentioned?”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“With a smile, Joseph. With. A. Smile.” Roosevelt smiles for emphasis before turning to Jack. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, son, and your loyalty to your friends is admirable.” Roosevelt sticks his hand out and Jack shakes it eagerly. “Keep your eyes on the stars, and your feet on the ground. Now if you kids will excuse us, Joseph and I have some legal matters to discuss.”

“Of course,” Davey says as the five of them leave Pulitzer’s office.

“I am never washing this hand _again,”_ Jack whispers as soon as the doors close behind them.

Davey chuckles and shakes his head. Katherine, on the other hand, lets out a squeal and launches herself at Jack, tackling him with a hug.

“Whoa,” Jack says as he catches her around the waist. “What’s this for?”

“I knew you weren’t a traitor!” She says, kissing him on the cheek before stepping away. “I _knew_ it.”

“Thanks, Kath,” Jack says softly, eyes full of affection.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were a traitor,” Davey apologies, fighting the irrational urge to have Jack look at him that way, but Jack’s eyes are just as full of affection as he looks at Davey. Davey melts a little bit.

“‘S fine, Dave,” Jack brushes off the apology. “I didn’t give ya much reason ta think otherwise.”

“Still, it’s good to have you back.” Davey smiles, and Jack smiles back.

“Shuddup.” Jack gives Davey a playful shove, but the affection never lessens. “Speakin’ a bein’ back,” Jack turns around, facing the way they had come and yells “you’se two done yet?”

Davey looks behind them, confused, but then Spot and Elmer run around a corner, red in the face, to catch up with them. Davey hadn’t even realized that they hadn’t been keeping up, but judging from the smirk on Jack’s face, he’d known the whole time.

“Shuddup,” Spot growls when he reaches them. “Ya know Racer ‘n Al is jus’ as bad.”

“Or at least they would be if Al weren’t sleepin’!” Elmer adds. “Oh yeah!” Elmer gives Katherine a grin, then Davey. “I’m Elmer! It’s nice ta meetcha!”

“Katherine, Davey, this is Elmer. Elmer, Katherine and Davey.”

“Hello.” Davey smiles politely. Elmer grins in return, swinging his arms slightly as he walks. It’s this motion that draws Davey’s attention to the fact that Elmer and Spot have their pinky fingers twined. A small pit of unease forms in Davey’s stomach at the sight, but he ignores it.

“JACK!” As soon as they exit the World building Crutchie is on Jack, hugging the taller boy as if he’ll disappear if he lets go.

“Hey Crutch.” Jack hugs back.

“I knew ya’d come back.” Crutchie mumbles into Jack’s shoulder. Jack tightens his arms are the shorter boy in response.

“Yeah well… we’se a family.” Jack mumbles into Crutchie’s hat. “Ya don’t run out on family.”

“Jack!” Jack huffs as a weight slams into his back.

“Hey Racer.” Jack lets go of Crutchie with one arm in order to wrap it around Race.

“Don’t ever leave again, bein’ leader is the pits!” Race whines. Jack laughs.

“I’ll try not ta,” he promises with a chuckle. “Now, last I checked, Albert was sleepin’ on the fire escape back at the lodge.”

“Really?” Race asks eagerly.

“Yep, now go on, I’ll cover ya fer today.”

“You’se the best, Jackie!” After one final squeeze, Race runs off in the direction of the lodge.

“You should go rest too,” Jack says, turning towards Elmer. With the cover of everyone hugging and celebrating their victory, Elmer and Spot each have an arms wrapped around the other, just appreciating each other’s company after so long apart.

“I’se fine, Jack,” Elmer insists. “I’se gonna stick with Spot all day.”

“If he trips even once, I’ll make him go rest.” Spot says. Jack nods.

“Thanks Spot, fer everything.”

“I didn’t do it fer _you.”_ Spot growls.

“I know,” Jack replies softly. “But ya still did it.”

Spot’s expression softens and he spits into his hand, holding it out for a handshake. Jack grins and returns the gesture.

“PAPES FER THE NEWSIES! Line up boys!” Wiesel yells over the commotion. Jack grins and jumps in line, Crutchie right behind him.

“Ya want ta sell together?” Jack asks after he and Crutchie have gotten their papers.

Crutchie doesn’t reply with words, but his smile is enough of an answer. If Jack and Crutchie are being a little too affectionate with each other… well, no one’s going to notice. Not today.

Hours later, long after he and Les had finished selling their papers, Davey finds himself in the Manhattan newsies lodging house. The energy in the house is electric as all of the Manhattan newsies, as well as most of the Brooklyn newsies, are still celebrating their victory. Jack had used some of the money Pulitzer had bribed him with to buy all sorts of treats piled high in the kitchen, Race has started a poker game one of the bunk rooms, Romeo, Mike, and Ike have started a dramatized retelling of the strike in the common room, there’s a game that Davey can’t even begin to understand the rules to in another bunk room…

It’s all getting to be a bit much for Davey.

Not to mention that he’d brought Sarah with him, and she and Katherine has become thick as thieves almost as soon as they’d laid eyes on each other. Watching Sarah and Katherine, the pit of unease in Davey stomach returns. The pit only grows when he notices Elmer practically sitting in Spot’s lap as Spot plays poker, a heavily bruised boy who must have just gotten out of the Refuge draping himself over Race’s back, Romeo and Specs sharing soft looks across the room as Romeo puts on his show, Jojo’s hand lingering too long on Buttons’ shoulder in the middle of a game, Mush and Kid Blink sitting quietly together on one of the bunks…

That’s getting to be too much for Davey too. Earlier today they’d learned that Pulitzer had threatened to charge Elmer with sodomy, and now everyone’s just _flaunting_ it, as though winning the strike suddenly makes being queer legal. If they’re not careful, they’ll get caught, and as much as they’re all feeling invincible right now… they’re not.

Davey climbs the fire escape to the roof, hoping to be alone, just for a little bit.

Of course hoping to be alone on the roof proves fruitless as Jack and Crutchie are already there, just as wrapped up in each other as everyone else is downstairs. Jack’s sitting with his back propped against the chimney, legs extended out in front of him, Crutchie sitting in his lap with Jack’s arms wrapped around him. They’re both looking at the sky, whispering to each other softly. Neither of them have noticed Davey’s arrival.

Davey sighs loudly. Is he the only sane person around here?

The sigh catches Jack and Crutchie’s attention.

“Hey Dave,” Jack greets, waving Davey over. Davey goes reluctantly.

“What’s the matter Davey?” Crutchie asks as Davey takes a seat next to Jack. Jack wraps one arm around Davey’s shoulders causing Davey to tense every further than he already had been.

“Davey?” Jack asks cautiously, removing his arm from Davey’s shoulders.

“How can you be so casual about this?” Davey asks.

“‘Bout what?” Crutchie asks, still lost.

_“This!”_ Davey gestures to the two of them. “And everyone downstairs! They’re acting like it isn’t illegal! Like it can’t get them killed! Like it’s not-“

“Dave,” Jack carefully places a hand over one of Davey’s own. “Everyone knows it’s illegal, and they knows that if they was bein’ like that on the streets it could get ‘em killed. But Davey, we’se safe here. Nothin’ bad’s gonna happen here.”

“You’re not invincible,” Davey whispers quietly. Jack squeezes his hand.

“I know, Dave, I know, but inside these walls, were safe ta be happy our way. We all know ta be careful outside, but we’se safe here.”

“It could get you killed,” Davey whispers even quieter than before.

“Isn’t being happy worth the risk?” Crutchie asks. Davey doesn’t respond. He’s avoiding looking at Jack or Crutchie, but he knows that they’re both watching him.

“Yes,” he admits eventually, looking up to meet Jack and Crutchie’s eyes, they both grin. Crutchie reaches forward with one hand to cup Davey’s face and pull him in for a gentle kiss. Davey lets his eyes shut and just concentrates on the feeling of Crutchie’s lips against his, and Jack’s hand in his own.

They pull apart when Jack tugs on Davey’s hand impatiently. Davey chuckles a little, but give Jack a kiss too.

“Definitely worth it,” Davey decides once they’ve parted.

They don’t move again for another hour, when Davey decides it’s time to be getting home.

“Stay the night,” Jack practically begs. “We can find a bunk fer Les, and you can sleep up here wit’ us.”

“Sure,” Davey smiles. “But I still need to walk Sarah home.”

“I’ll come wit’ ya!” Jack volunteers immediately.

“I’ll jus’ stay here,” Crutchie says, practically falling asleep already.

“We’ll be back soon, love.” Jack kisses Crutchie’s forehead and then he and Davey start climbing down the fire escape.

The inside of the lodging house has quieted down considerably since Davey left. Most of the Brooklyn newsies have left, and most of the Manhattan newsies have gone to bed, it’s only Spot, Elmer, Race, the bruises kid, Katherine, and Sarah still awake. They’re all playing a game of poker, which Katherine looks to be winning.

“Evenin’ fellas,” Jack whispers to avoid waking any of his sleeping kids. “Ladies, would ya allow Davey and myself the pleasure a walkin’ you ladies home when you’se done kickin’ Racer’s ass at poker?”

Race grumbles unintelligibly, but Katherine laughs.

“Why Mr. Kelly!” She teases. “When did you become such a gentleman?”

“I have my moments, Miss Plumber.” Jack gives a little bow at the end of his statement, making Katherine laugh more.

“It’s ‘Pulitzer’, actually.” She tells him.

“WHAT!?” Jack screeches, waking everyone in the room and causing them all to shush him.

Everyone who was already awake is laughing now.

“What?” Jack asks again, quietly this time.

“Cristo, Jack!” Race teases, folding his hand. “Didn’tcha hear? It was yesterday’s headline!”

Jack gapes, causing everyone to laugh harder, which triggered a whole new round of shushing.

Davey can’t help but press a kiss into Jack’s cheek.

“Still want to walk us home?” Katherine asks as she stands, brushes off her skirt, and offers Sarah a hand up, completely ignoring her winnings. Jack finally closes his mouth, and he nods mutely, still too shocked to speak.

Katherine and Sarah walk out of the room arm-in-arm, closely followed by Davey, with Jack trailing far behind.

“Who were they again?” Albert asks once they’re gone.

Race just laughs and gives him a quick kiss before taking half of Katherine’s winnings and heading to bed. Spot takes the other half of the winnings as he and Elmer also head off to bed, leaving Albert alone with the deck of cards.

“No seriously, who were they?”

**Epilogue-ish:** The Franklin's adopt Nickels because she’s adorable and they’ve missed having a kid around since their sons left. Nickels still sells with the newsies often because they’re her family too. Doctor Franklin offers to look after sick newsies pro bono all the time, and Mrs. Franklin often insists to every newsie she comes across in her day-to-day life that they come over for dinner that night. Basically they become parents to the newsies like Medda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this chapter like five times, this is the only version that made it all the way to end, and I like it
> 
> I wasn’t expecting Davey’s internalized homophobia, or Newsbians, but here we are


End file.
